


Think I'll Have Myself a Beer

by 5 Star Binch (thecannibalofoz)



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Macdennis kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:21:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10386564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecannibalofoz/pseuds/5%20Star%20Binch
Summary: Mac pours beer and thinks about his past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the Reel Big Fish song Beer. Wrote to get back into the habit!

Cold beer splashed onto Mac’s arm as he dropped several large ice cubes into the glass, his mouth dry. He’d been serving beer for his whole life but he somehow managed to forget to put the ice in first, out of tiredness or drunkenness or maybe just pure stupidity. _Typical_ , he thought. _Fucking up one of the only things I know how to do._

And it was true; Mac did know how to do beer. He could remember the first time he drank a can, aged 9, when his dad was back in jail again. All he knew at that time was that sometimes Daddy went away for a few months, but he’d be back - yet the way his mother would react would make it seem like he was gone for good. She’d left a warm, open, half empty can on the table next to her armchair where she'd passed out, and he knew he wasn't supposed to drink it - but he swallowed the can in one go, throwing his head back, some dribbling down his chin as he did it. Mac didn't know why he could remember it so vividly. Maybe because it was the last memory before the drunken haze began.

He searched through his memories trying to find one that didn't involve alcohol, but it was slim pickings. All the best memories had their share, those happier pre-teen days with Charlie, where they would always sneak a beer or two from their parents and just kick back. They’d be laughed at, mocked, beaten down, but they always had each other and they always had a bottle.

Those rare days his mom would kick herself out of her depression and get him and his cousins together, and they’d practice shooting beer bottles in the attic. His cousins would always hold competitions to see who could down a bottle the fastest, and he’d always win, his mother laughing and patting him on the shoulder. “That’s my boy.”

The nights he spent with Dennis in seedy dive bars not unlike their own, coming home after downing one too many and passing out on top of each other, waking up like that too. When he kissed him and the alcohol was all he could taste. How Dennis was always that bit nicer after a few drinks back then, sometimes even publicly, stroking his hair and touching him softly. He’d whisper that Mac was the most important thing to him because no one else could get him like Mac did, and he’d breathe the words down his neck as close as he could get before he was grazing his skin.

He downed the glass.

All the worst were drowned in it. The times his mother would drink herself into a stupor, leaving her lit cigarette burning in her hand, and he would be so, so afraid when he couldn’t wake her up. He would sit at her side, too young to really understand why this always happened to him, but worn down enough to know it was pointless to ask, or to cry.

Alcohol soaked the nights when Dennis would pace up and down their apartment, screaming at him about something or other, throwing bottles at the wall behind him if he seemed to be losing interest. He’d try to go over, pull him down onto the couch and calm him, but Dennis would pull away, downing even more of the stuff. “It’s too much, Dennis. Even for you man, it’s just too much.” Glazed eyes stared back at him as the bottle hit the floor.

Mac was jerked back to reality as Dennis entered the room, looking considerably better rested than usual. He was wearing a fair bit of makeup today, some of which had caked on his face in rough patches.

“Beer me, Mac,” he said impatiently but happily enough. Enough for Mac.

“Sure, bro,” Mac replied as he pushed a can towards the other man. The tab made a satisfying crack as he pushed it down, and Dennis looked up at him and smiled. He hadn't seen that smile in so long, not really.

“Think I’ll have myself a beer too, man.” He grabbed another can and took a swig. Maybe it wasn't all so bad.

 


End file.
